No one spoke for a while. The air felt heavier than before, thick with exhaustion and the weight of everything we'd just survived. One by one, the others drifted closer until we formed a loose circle around the broken altar. Blood, ash, and faint traces of green light stained the ground between us.
All eyes eventually turned to Marcus.
He sat on a piece of shattered stone, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the faintly glowing Base Core still cradled in my hand. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough but steady.
"I'm not taking it," he said. "The Core. That kind of power—it's a leash dressed like a reward. You put it down, and suddenly you're responsible for everyone tied to it."
He let out a tired laugh, shaking his head. "That's not me. I don't do caretaking. I fight, I fix what's in front of me, and I move on."
The silence stretched again until he added, "But… I'll take my share. Whatever you think it's worth."
I looked toward Nicole. She met my eyes, understanding passing between us without a word.
"How much?" she asked quietly.
"Fifty feels fair," I said. "He fought, stayed till the end, didn't bail. That's more than most."
Nicole nodded once. "Agreed."
She untied the pouch from her belt, crouched, and pulled out a smaller coin bag. She counted the coins quickly, the faint chime of metal soft against the silence, then cinched it closed.
"Fifty gold," she said, tossing it underhand to Marcus.
He caught it with one hand, the faint jingle of metal the only sound between us. "Fair enough."
He didn't thank her, and none of us expected him to. It wasn't about gratitude. It was about fairness.
Nicole tied the pouch back to her belt, then studied him for a moment. "What about you?" she asked. "You've got your gold, but what's your plan after this? You heading out alone?"
Marcus leaned back against a broken pillar, rolling the small coin bag in his palm. "Haven't decided," he admitted. "Don't have family waiting for me. Never really did. But in this new world?" He glanced around the ruined court, the blue glow of the Core flickering against his face. "It's better to be with someone than alone. You last longer that way."
Nicole nodded slightly. "So you'll stay?"
He gave a half-shrug. "For now. I'll help where I can, fight when I need to—but I want the freedom to walk if I decide to. No oaths. No orders."
I spoke before Nicole could. "That's fair," I said. "No one here's a prisoner. You can leave whenever you want—as long as it doesn't put anyone else in danger."
Marcus's eyes met mine. He seemed to weigh the words for a moment before nodding once. "Good enough for me."
"Then we have an understanding," I said.
Silence settled again, heavy and absolute. The only sound was breathing—ragged, uneven, alive. The battle was over, but the dead were still here.
"Anyone who can still move," I said, my voice cutting through the stillness, "start gathering the bodies. We're not leaving anyone behind."
There was no hesitation. Laney, Briar, and Logan started first, wordlessly picking their way across the wreckage. Giselle and Sloan joined them, moving slow but steady. Viktor wiped the blood from his face and fell in beside Marcus, while Sol helped where he could, quiet but determined.
We didn't talk. We didn't need to.
Everyone already knew who they were looking for.
We found Amber near the barricades, Liam halfway down the corridor, Josh beside the cracked tiles where Liz had left him. And then, deeper in the wreckage, under torn signs and debris, we uncovered Eli and Henry. The air stank of iron and smoke.
It took too long. The living were barely standing, and the dead were heavier than ever. Arms shook, steps faltered. Even I felt it—the pull in my muscles, the burn that made every lift slower.
Marcus noticed before I did.
He looked over the group—people dragging corpses, shoulders trembling, eyes glazed. Out of forty-three who'd fought, only twenty were still standing.
He raised his voice, the words cutting clean through the haze.
"Stop."
Everyone froze.
Marcus stepped forward, jaw clenched. "Listen up. We can't carry everyone. Not like this." His gaze swept the bloodstained floor. "Take your own. We're tired and injured, and there are people at the base who can help. Mark the rest and decide later. Burn what we can. Right now, we move."
Laney looked up at him, hesitant. "You mean… just leave them?"
Marcus's expression didn't change. "We honor who we can. But if we try to save what's already gone, more of us will join them. You all saw what it took just to survive this."
The silence that followed hurt more than any argument could have.
Finally, Nicole gave a slow nod. "He's right."
We moved to follow, and that's when it hit me—only my group was still alive. The rest were gone. Marcus couldn't carry the ten men he'd led, and he didn't seem interested in trying. His eyes stayed on the exit, not the dead.
So we took our own. Amber, Liam, Josh, Eli, and Henry.
The others we marked—simple, quick, a strip of cloth tied to whatever we could find. Then we turned away.
There wasn't time for more.
Jasmine exhaled. "We're done here. We are taking Amber, Liam, Josh, Eli, and Henry and heading back to the second floor. Wei Shen's waiting."
No one argued.
We moved out together, slow and deliberate, the sound of boots scraping across cracked tiles the only rhythm left to march by. The air was thick with ash and silence. We passed the empty stalls and shattered glass, every shadow still feeling like it might breathe.
By the time we reached the barricaded entrance to the second floor, the faint glow of lanterns guided us in.
Wei Shen and Mei were already there, rushing forward as soon as they saw us.
"Lian!" Wei's voice broke as he caught sight of his daughter, his hands checking her for wounds. Mei joined him, pulling both into a tight embrace, her relief spilling into quiet tears.
Behind them, Liz pushed through, eyes wide and wild. She ran straight for the group carrying Josh's body. The moment she reached him, her knees hit the floor, a raw sound tearing out of her throat.
No one spoke. No one needed to.
We laid the bodies in a cleared space near the barricade: lined, covered, and still.
It wasn't much of a resting place. But it was safe.
The sound of movement echoed from within the base. A moment later, the rest of our people stepped out—Karen, Hirose, Jesse, Devan, Kyle, Jordan, Mitch, and several of the rescued women. Even the injured came, limping or leaning on others, drawn by the same pull none of us could ignore.
They froze when they saw the shrouded forms. The air thickened; grief settled over everyone like dust.
I stood there a moment, watching faces shift from relief to recognition to disbelief. Then I spoke quietly. "Moment of silence."
Heads bowed. The room fell still except for the low crackle of the lanterns. The silence stretched long enough for the pain to settle, long enough to make the loss real.
When it finally broke, Nicole stepped forward. Her bandaged shoulder trembled slightly, but her voice didn't waver.
"Liam was my soldier," she said. "But more than that, he was one of us. He didn't wait for orders or ask for credit—he just acted. He pulled people out of fire because it was the right thing to do." She paused, her eyes fixed on the body. "He'd tell us to keep moving. To use what we've got and finish what we started. So we will."
She stepped back, shoulders squared, jaw tight.
Giselle came next. She knelt beside Liam's covered form, resting a gloved hand on the sheet. "We served under the same flag," she said softly. "SASR. He was tough, stubborn, and too damn brave for his own good. Always said dying wasn't scary—wasting your shot was. Guess he kept his word." Her voice cracked just once. "Rest easy, mate. We'll hold the line."
Mitch spoke after her. His words were quieter but heavy. "They fought for each other. Not for medals or orders—just for us. That's something I won't forget."
Then Liz stepped forward. Her eyes were red, her body shaking, but she forced herself to kneel beside Josh's body. "He wanted to go home," she whispered. "He talked about it every night. But he stayed, and he fought, and he saved lives. He was brave, even when he was scared. I just… I hope he knew I was proud of him."
Her words fell into the quiet, and no one moved for a long time. Karen helped her back to her feet, steadying her when her legs threatened to give.
I stepped closer, letting my gaze sweep across the group. Every face was raw—exhausted, hollow, but still alive.
"They gave everything," I said softly. "Every one of them. They made sure the rest of us walked out of that hell. We don't waste what they bought us. We rest, rebuild, and when the world comes for us again, we make sure we're ready."
I looked at each of them in turn—Liz, Wei Shen, Lian, Mitch, Nicole, all of them. "No one here stands alone. Not anymore."
The silence that followed wasn't empty—it was shared, grounded. A moment of unity carved out from loss.
Nicole gave a single nod. "They'd want that," she said.
We stood there a while longer, just breathing, the lanterns flickering over the still forms. It wasn't much of a farewell, but it was ours.